The Christening
by Svendances
Summary: Short little one shot inspired by events in my life. Six week old Annalise Rose Manoso gives a less than welcome homecoming.


_Just a little one shot that got in my head after certain events involving a perfect little girl this week. I hope you enjoy._

**The Christening**

I wish I was a composer. Or a painter. A sculptor. An artist of some kind. Someone with the ability to sufficiently capture the beauty of the bundle in my arms, because I know for sure that words – my current vocabulary at least – didn't even come close. Her bright blue eyes, staring up at me with an expression of wonder. Her cute button nose. Her mouth. Her adorable little ears. The full shock of fine dark hair that covered her head.

I couldn't even begin to describe how absolutely perfect she was in every single way. From the top of her curly head to the tips of her itsy bitsy toes, Annalise Rose Manoso was the most perfect creation in the world.

She was six weeks old, almost to the day, and I was just now meeting her for the first time. I'd been away on a government mission for the last three months, only making it home early this morning. This evening I'd made the drive from Rangeman out here to the house to meet the little angel and from the moment I laid eyes on her all my protective instincts – of which I had many – rose to the surface. I would literally lay down my life to ensure this girl's safety.

The moment I'd arrived, Stephanie had urged me to sit down on the living room couch before she would hand over the baby who was lying quite contentedly in just one of her arms. I guess she was worried about the bulk of gauze under my skin-tight t-shirt. The stitches barely hurt, but I knew better than to argue with a new mother, let alone a new mother who happened to be Stephanie Manoso.

Annalise had been quite restless from the moment I took her in my arms, no position I tried easing her obvious discomfort. Stephanie hadn't seemed too concerned about it, and had even left me alone with the child while she relieved her bladder.

The moment she stepped out of the bathroom Annalise began to scream. I started jiggling her against my shoulder in an effort to calm her down, looking to the child's mother for some kind of insight, but she simply moved to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a warm bottle. She placed it on the coffee table next to a small towel and crossed to me. I breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking she was going to take the screaming child from my arms, but instead she simply adjusted the baby's position and handed me the towel from the table, fitting the teet of the bottle into that tiny screaming mouth, silencing her immediately.

"Uh..." I uttered ever so eloquently.

"I need to get a start on dinner," she informed me. "Do you think you can handle feeding Annalise for me?"

Nodding, unable to bring words to my lips, I took the bottle from her grasp and held it in exactly the same position. I could handle this. It was just holding a bottle to the infant's mouth. How car could it be? Stephanie pressed a kiss first to Annalise's forehead, then mine before disappearing back into the kitchen.

I watched Annalise carefully while she fed to be sure I wasn't somehow drowning her. After a few minutes I noticed she had stopped sucking and was squirming again. I took the teet from her mouth and examined the bottle to see if there was something wrong with it. She'd only taken a little of the formula, but when I returned the bottle to her mouth she didn't seem interested.

"Steph?" I called uncertainly. "She's not sucking."

"Have you burped her?" she called back, without missing a beat.

"No?"

"Try burping her," she suggested. "She might have wind filling up her tummy."

I'd seen enough television to know that in order to burp the child I should put over my shoulder and pat her back, so that's what I did.

Nothing happened.

I called to Steph again and she appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "Would you like me to try?" she asked, moving forward and easily plucking the infant from my grasp. Annalise was put over her mother's shoulder and with three pats she let out a series of small burps. Stephanie praised her for each one before handing her back to me and instructing me to try feeding again.

She walked away again and everything was fine. Annalise was sucking merrily. I was speaking to her softly, explaining who I was and how perfect she was. She stopped sucking again, so I propped her up in a seated position on my left leg, facing the right, intending to try to burp her again.

I was not ready for what happened next.

One moment we were both clean and dry, the next we were both covered in warm, white, semi solid liquid.

"Steph!" I called urgently, unsure of what I should do in this situation.

She poked her head around the door jamb a moment later, eyebrows raised in concern. When she took in the sight of us, she let out a small laugh before hurrying forward, cooing sympathetically to the little girl. Once again, I thought she would take her daughter from me, but instead she simply handed me the towel I had discarded and stepped back.

"I have to put the vegetables on to steam," she informed me. "Then I'll get a bath ready for Annalise and you can shower and change clothes, okay?"

I looked at the baby vomit covering my black cargos and figured it was no worse than some of the other substances that had adorned them at one point or another, so I could probably put up with it for a short time. I nodded, and began wiping up the vomit from Annalise's front before moving on to my own clothes. Stephanie was still chuckling to herself in the kitchen when I heard the front door open and a pair of boots kicked off in the entry hall. The soft padding footsteps made their way to the kitchen first and after a moment a sharp bark of laughter joined Stephanie's giggles.

My cousin appeared in the doorway, a grin spread across his face from ear to ear. "I see you've been christened," he observed, closing the distance between us and gently stroking Annalise's cheek. "Good girl," he praised, earning him a wide grin from the infant. "You spewed all over Uncle Lester."

"Alright," Steph announced, returning to the living room. "Bath is ready. Carlos, if you bathe her Les can shower at the same time and then Dinner should be ready."

"What?" I asked, suddenly feeling cocky, despite the baby vomit residue. "You can't handle being near that much naked male?" I questioned.

She speared me with a glare so hard that I could almost feel the flesh dripping off my bones. "I just don't want to see you hurt, Lester," she informed me, with a fleeting glance to her husband. "I can't guarantee your safety if you were to present your 'male' to me and your niece."

She was probably right, so I didn't protest when Carlos took his daughter from my arms, holding her securely to his chest despite the regurgitated milk all over her grow suit. Stephanie made her way back to the kitchen to keep an eye on the food and I followed my cousin to the main bathroom to get clean for my first home cooked meal in months.

I just hoped it was edible.

The End


End file.
